Here’s something men probably shouldn’t know, but in the Christmas spirit, I’m going to spill the beans…
A women’s lunch reveals a multitude of sins. Seriously, pop the cork on a bottle of chardonnay, throw in some paste, and the stories come out. Oh how they come out!
Did the husband try a new move in the bedroom? It will be discussed. Is the ‘Karen job’ being an absolute punishment? She will be verbally burned at the stake. Did you hear that a distant (married) friend is having fun with her gardener? Let’s dig deeper.
If word got out about some of the conversations they had over toasted sourdough burrata, cancellations would be quick. But some are too good not to share.
Take, for example, the most recent one. One of the beautiful girls and I had spent many years between drinks, so naturally we were catching up on the most important topics: ‘How’s your love life going?’
And a rather scandalous discovery was made… it turns out that in June of this year we had dated the same man. At the same time. Without both of us knowing.
In fact, upon closer inspection, it turns out that she had been messaging me while I was enjoying a gloriously romantic trip to New Zealand with her.
I know. It’s time to order another bottle.
A women’s lunch reveals a multitude of sins. Seriously, uncork a bottle of chardonnay, add some pasta and the stories come out… writes Jana Hocking (pictured at Totti’s in Bondi, Sydney, with her friend Hollie Nasser on Monday).
When my girlfriend revealed who she’d been dating, my jaw dropped (Jana and Hollie are pictured with their friend Kate Adams, star of Bondi Vet and Real Housewives of Sydney).
A rather scandalous discovery was made… it turns out that in June of this year we had dated the same man. At the same time. Without both of us knowing
Wine glasses were feverishly filled as we pulled out our phones, reviewed our latest text messages from him, and confirmed that this B-grade celebrity (yes, you probably know who he is) had been wining and dining with us. At the same time.
Everyone bowed.
But this was not Lothair. Oh no. It was a recently divorced middle-aged man who carried a truck full of luggage and lived in a basement beneath his friend’s house. Still my beating heart.
And yet, we fell in love with him. Well, briefly. Because this is the thing about modern dating: men like him have mastered the art of a novelty term called The Soft Boy Playbook. She lured us in with stories of heartbreak, divorce drama, and regret—a perfect mix to activate the nurturing side of any woman with a pulse. We’ve all been there, right? You think, ‘Oh, maybe I can fix it.’ Spoiler alert: you can’t.
My friend and I compared notes. Turns out, we’d both been treated to the same quotes, the same conversations, and, yes, even the same sorry-me texts. Honestly, if this isn’t a representation of dating in 2024, I don’t know what is: a successful businesswoman (my friend) and a reasonably informed journalist (yours truly), both fooled by a guy who can’t even. rent your own place. Cringe.
Now, I’m ashamed to admit it, well, almost, but I’m a small-time girl. And when I’m hurt, I like to make sure the culprit knows it. Enter the era of ‘little mail’. For the uninitiated, it’s a well-timed Instagram photo with a bold caption that sends a message loud and clear. I went for something like, ‘Did you even have a proper lunch if you didn’t realize that two of you were out with the same guy this year (at around the same time!).’
I knew I would see it.
And do you know what he did?
We pulled out our phones, went back to our last text messages from him, and confirmed that this B-grade celebrity (you probably know who he is) had been winning us over and dining us, at the same time.
When I’m hurt, I like to make sure the culprit knows. So the girls and I posted this photo on Instagram, including the two the celebrity dated earlier in the year.
He liked it.
Him. Appreciated. He.
I’ll give him this: he has huge balls. And maybe that’s what guys like him have. They have dominated the game. A little notoriety (even B-grade fame), a lot of charm, and suddenly you’re ignoring obvious red flags like, oh, I don’t know, the fact that he lives in his partner’s basement.
Because let’s be real: the basement (as a man in his fifties) is the new ‘I live with my parents’ And yet, here we are.
Which brings me to this: why do we let men like this pass? Is it the attractiveness of a single man of the right age? The rush to meet someone ‘different’? Or are we all so overwhelmed by options these days that we overlook the obvious?
A YouGov study found that almost half of single people date multiple people at the same time. It’s a numbers game and guys like him are thriving in it.
Sure, do what you want. But could you please not dip your fuse twice in the same friendship group?
Luckily, we checked him in early and kicked him out to the curb. But still, maybe we should thank him. After all, there’s something strangely therapeutic about swapping war stories with another woman who’s been there.
Trauma shared by a burrata and chardonnay; Honestly, I wouldn’t change that Totti’s lunch for the world. We laughed, cringed, and toasted dodging a bullet.
So, here’s my Christmas PSA: If you’re dating a guy who lives in his friend’s basement and overshares his divorce problems on the first date… maybe take it as a sign he’s not the man. indicated.
Or don’t do it. Because sometimes the story is worth it.
And for anyone wondering if I regret that Instagram post? It’s not a possibility. Because petty or not, revenge is truly a dish best served at Totti’s.